Gretchen's Journal (via Sai)

The following journal is written in exceptionally elegant orcish script on rough parchment, bound in leather.

This is bad. I am a traitor. That’s not right. Glorg is the traitor. But Glorg is the Warcheif. That means we are the traitors. Ostia said there was a word for this. Rebellion. Did you get that Sai. Re-bell-ion. Sounds elvish. He says we are not traitors. We are re-bels. I do not know this word. I do not understand the difference. The orcs do not know a difference. We are hunted.

But we also hunt. I cannot let Glorg and the dragons destroy the orcs. We will fight. We must plan and prepare. We do not have the numbers that Glorg does. But we have strength. We have new weapons. My sight. Your mind. Ostia’s marines. We have much to work with.

But we risk more than I ever have before. If we fail, the we don’t just die. If we fail, we don’t just meet the disapproval of our commanding officers. If we fail, we fail our great race. That is a heavy load to carry into battle. We cannot fail. Graan guide us, we cannot fail.